


An Understanding of Silence

by ravenhead (socksy)



Series: Sword and Spear [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Friendship, Gen, One Shot, Short One Shot, Veterans, not really tho, nothing happens, two grumpy old men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 19:31:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12175215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socksy/pseuds/ravenhead
Summary: Time stretched before them, between them, behind them. It filled the space around them, surrounding their victories, their virtues, their sins, their regrets.Two Holy Grail War veterans and the things they won't talk about.





	An Understanding of Silence

**Author's Note:**

> (Lancer) Cu has a line in FGO about being a veteran so I took that ball and ran with it.  
> Also this might not entirely make sense but it takes place in/on(?) Chaldea, after Cu and Arturia have been summoned by the protagonist.

Cu leaned against the wall, exhaling smoke through his nose as he tossed the cigarette to the floor, extinguishing it with his foot. He didn't like looking at the bright orange embers, and how they moved too quickly down the rolled paper towards him.

He knew what danger smoking was to humans - but he wasn't human, was he? This was just something to pass the time as he wandered the monochrome halls of Chaldea during the wee hours of the morning.

He’d given up trying to make sense of the layout, the massive structure was a labyrinth of identical hallways. One room looked exactly like the last, and it was on his 5th attempt at finding his own quarters that he came across what must be the mess hall, for the few residents here who still needed to eat. (That was something he hadn’t realized he’d missed - food, real food. Crubeens, colcannon, shepherd’s pie...he pushed the thought from his mind.)

A lone figure sat in the middle of the cavernous hall, shadows obscuring all but the dulled silver armour and straw-blonde tips of her hair.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Arturia like this - completely still, back straight, eyes boring holes into the table. In the shadowy room the king’s face looked almost gaunt, sickly pale streams of moonlight forming dark hollows underneath her eyes.

Heroic Spirits were ageless, with no real physical difference from one encounter to the next. But just under the surface both Lancer and Saber seemed...tired, a little more world-weary than when they’d seen each other last.

“You’ll catch cold, out at night like that.” the man said, crossing the threshold.

Arturia started at hearing something spoken in her native English.

“You know we don’t get sick.” lilting Cornish answered the soft brogue.

Her voice was hoarse, either from being used for the first time tonight or the new unfamiliarity of speaking English - it felt almost alien in their mouths, another thing that was more troubling than it should be.

“Why aren’t you sleeping like the others?” she asked, voice becoming more clear but remaining just above a whisper.

Cu shrugged. “Why would I if I don’t have to? I’d rather keep watch just in case-” he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

“In case something happens.” the other intoned.

“Yeah.” he gave a single nod. He hadn’t expected to be so forthcoming, but Saber (Arturia. _Arturia_ ) was the only one here who could understand.

“Why are you in full armour in the middle of the night?” He questioned back.

The blonde continued staring at her hands. “It makes me feel...”

“Safer.” he finished for her, adjusting his position so his shoulder plates wouldn’t scrape against the door frame.

“Yes.” came the barely audible reply. Seemed tonight was full of unexpected honesty.

Cu let out a short breath. “Well, we can’t have you sitting alone like that, now can we?” He didn’t get a response, nor did he expect one as he made his way towards the ancient coffee maker and filled 2 paper cups. He skipped the cream and sugar, the bite of black coffee was likely just what they needed - there was something about the late hour and stark-white walls that made him feel like he was floating, isolated in time and space.

Cu carefully set the cups down as he took the stool across from his counterpart.

Arturia stared at the dark liquid for what could have been minutes or hours before lifting the cup to her lips and tipping it back, feeling it scald her mouth and insides as it slithered down, pooling in her stomach and spreading its heated tendrils outwards.

Cu sipped his as well, feeling the warmth of the cup remind him of his physical form, and bring feeling back to the tips of his fingers like hundreds of needles.

The pair sat for a while longer, each staring at some undetermined point in the distance. Cu jostled his leg and grit his teeth, the caffeine bringing a ghost of adrenaline. Arturia remained still as marble.

Cu's eyes started wandering, circling around the blank white room before falling again on the figure in front of him. Their eyes met for a moment, but the soft mossy green and startling blood red quickly darted away. The lancer looked like he was about to say something, but decided against it.

He wondered if she still thought it was all worth it, being summoned time and time again. Of course he’d never ask - there were some things you just didn’t. He wouldn’t pretend to understand her motivations or moral compass, but he did know something about pride, and he wouldn’t attempt to infringe on hers like that.

There was an understanding of the silence between them, and the things they wouldn’t talk about. A thousand questions lay between the two veterans, a thousand chances to connect to someone who could maybe, almost understand.

The northern sea crashing against the rocky cliffs. The hum of the trains in a 21st century city.

Ferdiad. Lancelot. Emer. Guinevere.

The sound of mages whispering in the forest.

Kiritsugu Emiya. Shirou Emiya.

Bazett. Kirei.

The smell of flames in the temple in Fuyuki.

Mordred.

Connla.

The feeling of pushing a spear through the heart of your son, the death of your dearest friends, the uncertainty of what would come next.

Wishes, and wars, and coming out more bitter and exhausted each time.

Time stretched before them, between them, behind them. It filled the space around them, surrounding their victories, their virtues, their sins, their regrets.

Arturia finally rose, slowly but steadily, setting her cup next to his. “We’re going out again tomorrow. Get some rest and be ready.”

Cu still faced the high window, listening to her footsteps echo out of the room and down the hall. The corner of his mouth twitched. “We wouldn’t be heroes otherwise.” he murmured into the darkness.


End file.
